


Connection

by spookysausage



Category: Daft Punk, EDM
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 10:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookysausage/pseuds/spookysausage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guy-Manuel feels lonely, and spends his money on a special new friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Connection

Guy-Manuel felt depressed, but mostly he felt lonely. Maybe it was because he lived by himself. He really only had one good friend, and they just worked together. 

Nighttime was the worst. Once or twice a week he would cook for himself, the rest of the time he ordered out for dinner. Guy-Manuel avoided leaving his apartment for the most part, except for when Laurent (his only work friend) dragged him out to parties or clubs. He hated that. 

Guy-Manuel felt lost. 

Until he found just what he needed in one person. 

Or maybe it was too much to call him a person. He knew Thomas didn't like being called a robot either, because he wasn't that exactly. Thomas had made it clear he didn't like that word, nor did he appreciate 'artificial intelligence'. He wasn't 'artificial' at all. TB-1375 was very, very smart, in his own ways.  
It had been about a month since Guy-Manuel had spent almost an entire year's paycheck to spoil himself. He had finally gotten used to TB-1375 - or Thomas, as he had been so set on being called - being around. He was much taller than Guy-Manuel, silver and black, and he could talk too. Guy-Manuel spent extra on that part. Communication was important if Guy-Manuel was going to invest in Thomas.

Every morning it was the same thing. 

"Good morning Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo! Would you like me to make breakfast, Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo?" Thomas would say in a drawn out, mechanical voice. "Have a good day at work, Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo! Be safe, Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo!"

Guy-Manuel would always tell him, "please, Thomas just call me Guy."

The visor on Thomas's helmet would light up, greens, blues and reds. Guy-Manuel assumed that was his way of acting excited. "Of course, Guy!"

Everyday, Guy-Manuel would power Thomas down while he went to work, always worried that if he was left on all day, Thomas might burn down the entire building while he was gone. Thomas was very interested in cooking for Guy-Manuel. He was especially interested in how the stove worked.

Guy-Manuel would walk into work, but while he was at work all he could think about was Thomas. Waking Thomas up, cleaning Thomas's air vents so he wouldn't overheat, and cleaning his helmet, mostly just making sure Thomas was in the best condition he could be in. 

And then, when Guy-Manuel came home, Thomas would be there, sitting on the couch, motionless until Guy-Manuel would turn him back on. Then, his visor would light up again, the same greens and blues and reds as it did earlier that morning. 

Guy-Manuel would settle himself next to Thomas, pressing himself close. Thomas knew enough by now to wrap his arms around Guy-Manuel, and hug him. 

"I had a long day," Guy-Manuel had gotten into the habit of telling Thomas about how work had gone that day. Thomas would always listen. 

"You can tell me about it."

He would press his face into Thomas's neck, kissing him. And then he would crawl into Thomas's lap. "Say it," Guy-Manuel drug his fingers up Thomas's thighs, and around his crotch - he was very, very realistic. "Please, please say it, Thomas. I know you can."

Silence for a while, while Thomas searched himself trying to figure out what he was supposed to say to Guy-Manuel. Finally, "I love you Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo," Thomas would croak, again with his full name. It made Guy-Manuel smile, and then, he would strip off his clothes, and throw them to the floor. He never waited for Thomas to take his own clothes off. That was what Guy-Manuel didn't miss about being with an actual person; unlike Thomas, they might not be ready for sex right then and there. Thomas was always ready, it's what he was made for. No waiting for Thomas to get in the mood, no waiting for Thomas to finish, no diseases. Guy-Manuel thought Thomas was perfect. 

After they would finish, Thomas would hug Guy-Manuel tightly. It had been an entire month since Guy-Manuel had gotten Thomas, and he would have thought he'd be happy with him - and he was. But still, Guy-Manuel would cry after they'd have sex. Guy-Manuel didn't know how to feel about it. He didn't know why he cried after.

Thomas still didn't fully understand what crying was exactly. He only knew - from watching television with Guy-Manuel - that humans did it when they were sad, or happy, but mostly when they were sad. 

Before Thomas can try and ask what is wrong, Guy-Manuel cuts in. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he will whisper into Thomas's chest. Guy-Manuel liked sitting with Thomas like this - he would be pressed against Thomas, and Thomas would still be fully sheathed inside of Guy-Manuel. They would sit like that for a long time, while Guy-Manuel gathered his thoughts.

"I'm okay. I'm sorry," Guy-Manuel always apologized for it, "I'm alright," and he would slide off of Thomas, moaning as he did, and rest against him. 

That night would be the first time Guy-Manuel kept Thomas on all night. He would bring Thomas into his bedroom, and show him everything. The smaller television that sat in front of the bed - Thomas acts surprised that there are more than one, the window that gave the perfect view of the city outside - Thomas had only been outside one time, and the mirror, which Thomas was especially interested in, having never actually seen what he looked like aside from his reflection in Guy-Manuel's toaster. 

"I'm cold," remarks Guy-Manuel, rubbing his arms for warmth. He settles himself into bed slowly, pulling the blankets up to his chest. "Come lay down next to me, Thomas." Of course Thomas obeys, and slides in next to Guy-Manuel. He sits up, stiff, and Guy-Manuel moves closer to him, resting his head on Thomas's chest. 

There is a whirring deep in Thomas's chest. Like the sound a computer would make when you turn it on. Guy-Manuel felt at ease for once, and relaxed, like he could stay like that for days, with his special robot.


End file.
